


The Entity's Plaything

by The_Ace_Anon



Category: Real Person Fiction, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Blood, Body Horror, Gore, Hurt No Comfort, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:33:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24185188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Ace_Anon/pseuds/The_Ace_Anon
Summary: Summary: The Entity has fun with its favorite toy. aka: I had a sudden urge to write Actor whump, so write Actor whump I did!
Relationships: Actor Mark & The Entity, Mark Fischbach & The Entity
Comments: 1
Kudos: 9





	The Entity's Plaything

Mark’s breathing came out in strangled gasps as he limped up the stairs, his entire body in absolute angoy. His broken bones scraped against each other as he climbed, his ribs rattled in his chest, his body shivered and shook and coughed as blood filled his lungs. He should’ve been dead by now. He should’ve died when he stabbed himself, carving a line into his scared chest, he should’ve died when that car hit him, breaking most of his bones, he should’ve died when his head was slammed into a brick wall over and over and over until blood was running down his head in rivers. To be completely honest, he had no idea how his body was still moving, pushed by some unseen force to keep moving. He wished the unseen force would go away, leave him alone to die instead of forcing him to continue. 

He wanted nothing more than to lay down and die, to not have to feel his bones shift and crack at each step, to not have to feel the blood climbing up his throat and out of his mouth, to not have to live with a horrible, screaming pain that got louder and louder with each movement. But his body refused to stop, refused to listen, hadn’t been listening for a while now. He heard the voice in the back of his head chuckle, amused by his pain.

**_“Keep going, we’re almost to the top!”_ ** It whispered, excited. Mark mentally flipped it off, even as his body continued to move. He reached the top of the stairs and opened the door that led out onto the building’s roof.

The wind whipped past him, the beautiful night sky shone with stars, and his body began to creep towards the edge. Mark internally  _ screamed _ , unable to open his mouth to let out a proper cry, and tried to make his body stop, tried to gain back control, but nothing worked. Nothing ever worked. The only sign of his panic, of his fear, were the tears dripping down his face. 

_ Please don’t do this _ . He begged the voice.  _ Please stop, I’ll do whatever you want just please don’t make me do this.” _

The voice just laughed.  **_What’s the matter? Are you scared of falling a few stories? Well don’t worry, I won’t let you die, you are my favorite after all. And I only want to do a few more things and then I’ll stop, I promise._ ** It had said that before, said it would stop before it had him break his own arm with a hammer, said it would stop before it forced him to drown himself, promises to stop as it kept going further and further, promises that were always broken. As he looked over the edge of the building he wanted to scream, to sob, to do something, to say something, but he couldn’t. His jaw locked shut, his voice long silenced, his body long gone. He stood for a moment at the edge, the wind rushing past him, his body screaming, the voice laughing, and then he stepped off.

Wind rushed past him as he fell, whistling and screaming, and the world burled around him and he wanted to scream and he wanted it to stop- and then he hit the ground. What was left of his bones shattered, his skull broke into pieces, his blood gushed out of his broken body, staining the ground red. The pain was screaming, thrashing, bursting throughout his body. The only thing he could hear was the voice laughing and laughing and laughing. He wanted it to stop, he wanted everything to stop, he wanted to go back to the moment his parents gave him that fucking house and burn it to the ground, Damien be damned, his role as the hero be damned, his story be damned. He wanted to go back to when he first killed himself and slap himself, scream at himself that by doing this he was condemning himself to an unkillable existence. But more than anything else, he wanted to die, he just wanted to die, to escape this living hell, to get rid of this horrible horrible pain. He just wanted to lay here and let himself bleed out, let his life drain away until not even the voice could bring him back.

  
His body slowly stood up, despite his shattered limbs, despite his drowned lungs, despite his broken spine, despite the blood covering him, and began to walk away.  **_Come on, there’s something else I want to try, you’re going to_ ** **love** **_this_ ** . The voice whispered happily as it led his body towards the next death.  **_I just want to do a few more things and then we’ll stop, I promise_ ** . Mark broke down into tears, his sobs not even making it out of his head, as he walked, a prisoner in his own body.


End file.
